Silent Symmetry (The Embodied trilogy) (22 page)

But before anything else could happen, Cruz broke free. Aranara had let her concentration slip and relinquished her hold on him. Cruz leapt over the operating table that Aranara had been lying on and grabbed
Noon’s arm, pulling the scalpel away from my neck.

“STOP!” I
yelled as they struggled.

Fake Elle was now back on her feet, and the other Embodied ran toward my operating table, where
Noon and Cruz were fighting behind my head. I tried to turn around, but I couldn’t see what was happening.

Then I heard the clanking of the scalpel dropping onto the floor. Cruz must have punched
Noon in the solar plexus, because he dropped down too. Cruz edged around the other side of my table, keeping it between himself and the approaching Embodied. But now, seeing Noon out cold, they ignored Cruz and dragged Noon’s limp body away from the tables.

Cruz started to unstrap me as they hauled Noon to his knees and surrounded him, just as the Temple Embodied had surrou
nded Cilic before he imploded agonizingly back into crystal pyramid form.

“No
...” I murmured when I realized what these Rebel Embodied were about to do to Noon.

The first strap didn’t take long. My upper body was now free.

The Rebel Embodied joined hands around Noon’s barely-conscious kneeling figure. I watched in horror as Noon threw back his head and put his arms across his chest. The same hive-like drone I’d heard in the arena and even felt penetrate my skin was emitted by the circle of three.

Cruz untied the strap around my pelvis.

“NOOOO!” I screamed.

My arms were now free, and I feverishly helped him with the remaining strap binding my legs.

Then the drone ceased and something was ripped out from my heart.

From my mind.

From my soul.

Noon
was no longer inside me.

The last strap came loose and I looked over at the Rebel Embodied.
Noon’s crystal pyramid lay on the floor between them.

“Quick! Grab the pyramid,” I shouted to the astonished
Cruz.

Our eyes met for a split second and I instantly knew how much I meant to him. And how much he was willing to risk for me.

The Rebel Embodied broke their circle. Cruz covered the distance in a heartbeat, then barreled into them, rolling on the ground and grabbing the Noon pyramid in one swift, smooth move, just as I’d watched him do with a football on the school athletic grounds. He rolled to the far side of the room and crashed into a wall.

He seemed momentarily winded and the Embodied advanced menacingly toward him.

Think fast, Kari, think fast. There’s no Noon to help you now....

I picked the scalpel up from the floor and held it to my own neck.

“WAIT!” I commanded.

The Embodied stopped
and turned toward me. I could see them calculating internally, communicating their options.

“Like
Noon said, you need me alive...”

I was surprised at how calm, how together
. I sounded.

“No, Kari!
” said Cruz, getting to his feet.

“You won’t do it,” said Aranara.

There seemed to be some kind of inner conflict among the three Embodied, and while they communed, I walked slowly, but steadily to the door, still holding the scalpel to my jugular.

“Come on, Cruz,” I said quietly.

He started to edge past them. The Embodied joined hands once again and closed their eyes. Cruz faltered. I could feel the strength draining from my arm and the scalpel start to move away from my neck.

“Cruz!” I exclaimed, “Focus. Focus on my voice. Focus on me. They’re messing with our heads. Look at me!”

Our eyes locked. He kept moving past them. I was regaining control. Somehow the power of the connection between us was weakening the influence of the Embodied.

I pressed the scalpel back against my skin. I could feel the blood pumping in my
veins.

“I
will
do it,” I muttered.

Cruz was now beside me. Still looking at each other, we backed out of the room.

We were now in a larger, deserted waiting room. Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of my clothes and shoes piled on a chair.

“Run!” I yelled, throwing down the scalpel and scooping up the clothes.
I didn’t dare turn around to see the Embodied chasing us as we fled.

The door out of the waiting room led to a long hallway with another leading off it. At the far end was an emergency exit sign. We rushed toward it,
then crashed through the metal door and into a stairwell.

Cruz
bombed down the stairs three at a time and I couldn’t keep up. I heard the door above clang open so I started to skip down dangerously fast. We reached the bottom of the stairwell and another emergency exit door. This one had a textured glass window in its top half showing the welcome sight of the streetlights outside.

Cruz pushed the door’s metal bar. It moved but the door didn’t open. I heard Aranara’s heels coming down the stairs. He pushed again. It wouldn’t budge.

I stepped back, frantic, and saw a red notice on it: “Door locked from 10 pm to 7 am.”

He hammered at the glass. The only other way out at the base of the stairwell was an internal door behind us. I ran to it. Locked as well. I looked up the stairs. The Rebel Embodied were descending swiftly and purposefully.

A waiting room chair with a broken seat lay overturned in one corner. I picked it up and thrust it at Cruz. Without hesitating, he let the diamond pyramid fall to the floor, grabbed the chair from me and swung it at the window.

“Shit!” he yelled as the chair bounced back, catching him a glancing blow on the forehead. He cursed and put a hand to his head.

“Cruz! Are you okay? Cruz!!” I shouted.

He nodded, wiping blood away from a gash with the back of his sleeve.

That moment was when something calm inside me took control. Was it the adrenaline or was it Noon’s influence? I don’t know, but saying Cruz’s name had given me an idea.

Diamond was harder than glass. I picked up the pyramid, lifted it to the window and carved a big cross in the glass using the tip. It scratched like plastic.

“Try now!” I said, breathlessly.

The Embodied were only one floor above us.
Cruz swung the chair again and I shielded my face as the glass shattered. He used the chair to push out the shards from the window opening, then clasped his hands together to give me a boost.

The Embodied were seconds away.

I threw the pyramid and my clothes through the opening, mounted Cruz’s hands and climbed out. My heart was beating so fast that I didn’t even feel the freezing night air. Cruz leveraged himself up and halfway out just as the Embodied arrived at the bottom of the stairs and took hold of his legs.

He pushed to get out with all his might, kicking furiously. I dropped my things and grabbed his arms. We struggled, our heads crushed against each other. I could feel his every muscle and sinew straining to break free from the relentless, inhuman grasp of the Embodied. The sweat from his forehead soaked into my hair. He kicked again and must have connected with the solar plexus of one of them because he suddenly lurched forward several inches.

“Come ON!” I grunted, pulling harder.

He kicked again, I let go his arms, put my hand through the opening and scratched at the pair of hands holding his belt. My fingers dug into the flesh, but of course the hands felt no pain and stayed clamped tight.

In the midst of the struggle I could barely see through the opening to tell what was happening inside. It was Aranara who was holding onto Cruz’s belt, and Fake Elle was grappling with his flailing feet. So it was Fake Mom that he must have kicked in the solar plexus, putting her out of action for a while.

“Keep kicking!” I said. “You got one already.”

Cruz let out a roar and started kicking like a mule. He hit Fake Elle square in the chest and she collapsed too. Now there was just Aranara, clinging onto his belt. She held on with one hand, then reached out with the other to grab Cruz’s jacket collar. This was my opportunity. She may not have felt any pain, but she was embodied as a teenage girl, just like me. No strength advantage. I pried her fingers off his belt one by one. Before she realized that she’d made a mistake letting go with one hand, Cruz gave one last almighty push and fell through the opening onto the snow-covered back alleyway.

Aranara started to climb through too. But once she was half-way out, she was a sitting duck. I
was in the school soccer team... and now it was time to play ball. I swung my leg back and gave her the hardest kick I could. My foot connected with the middle of her body. It may not have hit her directly in the solar plexus, but it certainly had an impact, because she went limp, dangling out of the broken window.

“Quick!” said Cruz an
d grabbed my wrist.

I scooped up my clothes and
Noon’s pyramid with my other hand. As I righted myself I saw Fake Mom staggering to her feet at the bottom of the stairwell.

“
RUN!!” he yelled.

Just before we rounded the corner I looked back
one more time and saw Aranara’s unconscious body being dragged back into the building.

We sprinted into the deserted parking lot. Cruz’s sister’s car was parked haphazardly across two spaces. I threw my things inside and jumped in.
Cruz turned the key. The engine turned over, then nothing. He pounded the steering wheel with his fists.

“What a piece of shit!”

He tried again. This time it worked. We peeled out onto the street and sped away. Cruz barely slowed down as he went through a red light. In the passenger wing mirror I could see headlights a couple blocks behind us. A white SUV. Was it them, already after us? Cruz took a corner, tires squealing, and we merged onto the highway.

I pulled on my clothes. It was 11.42 on New Year’s Eve. Almost no traffic. Seconds later, Cruz was doing over 90 mph in the fast lane.

“Slow down,” I said, as I buttoned my jeans. “I’m no safer with you!”

His knuckles were white, his shoulders hunched and his eyes were glued to the road. Luckily, the gash on his forehead was superficial and the blood had already dried.
Both of our chests and our forearms were scratched up pretty bad though.

I placed my hand on his as he veered into the middle lane and overtook a minivan on the inside.

“Cruz, it’s okay, we’ve lost them. Just breathe, slow down...”

It seemed to work. He took his foot off the gas. His shoulders dropped slightly. His jaw unclenched. His eyes flicked over to mine, then back at the highway.

“Kari, I...”

“Shhh,” I calmed him
, “don’t say anything right now. Just breathe and drive. Breathe and drive.”

We cruised along like that for a few minutes, with my hand resting on his on the steering wheel and
Noon’s pyramid on my lap. We passed a sign for the George Washington Bridge. It was only two miles away. Once we crossed it, we’d be back in Manhattan. Back home. Maybe we could hide from the Embodied among the teeming millions. But I was still no closer to finding Mom.

The bridge was lit up with festive lights for New Year’s Eve, but almost free of traffic. I looked at the clock. 11.55. No kidding it was empty – everyone was already wherever they wanted to be at
midnight.

We took the bridge on-ramp and my heart leapt. Were we really free of them? The skyscrapers were welcoming beacons in the crystal-clear night air. My feeling of relief didn’t last long. Out of nowhere an eighteen-wheeler thundered past us.

“Jeez!” exclaimed Cruz, stamping on the brake as the car rocked, buffeted by the turbulence from the massive truck.

But
... could it be? Was that Mom’s face in the truck’s wing mirror?

“Cruz
...” I started to say.

Then the truck swerved. I held my breath. It jackknifed. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The cab was now across both center lanes, the trailer following it in a graceful
curve. It was definitely Fake Mom in the driver’s seat.

Cruz swung the wheel and we began to skid too, following the same pattern as the truck. We spun around. The white SUV was right behind us, no other vehicles in sight. We completed the 360-spin and the truck came back into view. It was stopping almost sideways, occupying the entire four lanes. We continued our crazy pirouette, about to plow straight into it. I screamed as Cruz threw the wheel the other way. He did something, I don’t know what, that got us out of the skid.

Then everything was quiet.

We had stopped in the fast lane. In front of us, the truck was blocking all four lanes, barring our way across the bridge, our escape route back home.

The cab door opened and Fake Mom climbed down.

I turned around. The white SUV had stopped behind us. In back of it, a couple of cars had slowed to a crawl, their flashers on.